


Machine

by akuli



Series: i knew you once [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: baby’s first vt work, deo and tommy are the focus, its simply my brand at this point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:35:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28267734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akuli/pseuds/akuli
Summary: From that day on, they protect each other.(or; in letting go of some(one) wrongfully taken from you)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: i knew you once [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2070849
Comments: 12
Kudos: 61





	Machine

**Author's Note:**

> Title’s taken from the Misterwives song! Thought it fit better here than the original playlist it’s on, but it’s a banger regardless. This one is short and was not supposed to be my first work in the collection, but I was handed the rights to Deo so of course I had to do something, especially for the server. Merry Crimas you funky kids. Miss you :)

When Deo meets Tommy, he does, initially, like most of Tommy’s classmates and others who have had the unfortunate luck to meet  _ the _ Tommyinnit, find him quite annoying.

Tommy’s the sound of the conveyor belt, a constant that eventually fades into the background of the incessant noise of District 8, only noticed by those who want to. He’s loud, and he doesn’t think before he speaks, despite the Peacekeepers who are stationed at every corner. Deo’s two years above Tommy, so he tries to cut the kid some slack, despite the way he makes Deo question if dumb questions do in fact, exist. 

And then, one day, Deo finds Tommy hiding.

(He’s exiting his last class when in his peripheral, somewhat blurred by the divide of the glasses he hasn’t gotten new frames for in years, there’s a flash of red. He doesn’t know what compels him to stop and peak into the gap between the buildings of ash, but he’s glad he does, because Tommy is sitting on the grass, arms folded over his head)

Deo makes sure there is distance between them when he calls out to Tommy, who flinches, and looks at him with suspicion, with the exhausted fear of the Districts who know the violence of government all too well.

It takes nearly half of the time scheduled for lunch to convince Tommy to let Deo into his space. Even then, he does not say much, but his mouth twitches a few times, as if he’s trying to smile. 

(Tommy doesn’t let Deo touch him that day, but he begins to linger, testing the waters by finding Deo when there are group assignments and he needs someone to work with.

By the end of the year, Tommy seeks out him and Josh daily, voice still echoing in the open, but he talks about things he likes, and Deo’s come to look forwards to his smile on his worst days.)

From that day on, they protect each other. 

(Tommy, in climbing through Deo’s window after the sky has gone the navy color of velvet suits that his mother sews for the Capitol, coaxing him onto the roof to squint to see the stars, his breathing relaxing from Tommy’s attempts to be quiet. Deo, in taking Tommy’s shoulders and leading him away from those that relish in taunting him, praising him when he is proud of a project or idea, despite his own thoughts on the subject.)  
  


* * *

“ And your male tribute, my dearest District 8, is,” The escort is dressed in the latest Capitol fashion trends, looking just as clownish as the last year as she rolls open the piece of paper “ Thomas Simons.”

(He likes to think that Josh’s hand, firmly gripping his forearm, is what stops him from volunteering, and not the smoke that fills his lungs)

Tommy, to his credit, wastes no time in pushing through the crowd, and as he ascends to meet the escort, his effort to find Deo in the crowd is not subtle, nor in vain. He finds him as his right foot meets the top of the stage, and attempts a smile.

“ Thomas, huh?” The escort’s own grin is more exaggerated than Tommy's, who takes his place next to her, “ like that old cartoon, eh?”

“ You’re not very funny,” Tommy replies, with no shred of emotion, and something that’s, perhaps, the cousin to a vindictive grin takes ahold of Deo’s expression despite the situation and he thinks  _ that’s  _ my boy.

* * *

When Tommy wins, District 8 mourns.

As Tommy is getting applauded for his speech, Peacekeepers take Josh’s arm and it's hard not to flinch away, knowing what they are capable of. They are lead into the mayor’s office, and Josh is the one to take advantage of the luxury they will experience for only a few minutes, propping his boots up on the chair with a grin. Deo takes his own place quietly, eyes glorying between his friend and the door. 

Tommy is escorted in by his own entourage of Peacekeepers he doesn’t look too keen on either. When he catches sight of Deo, though, he breaks into that smile of his, the one that looks fake because it’s so wide, so naturally joyous.

Tommy is an exception to what victors public appearances usually are. There’s a reason why stylists exist, to make the victors into the beautiful metaphors of their brands the Capitol dotes on. Tommy is an exception in the sense that he is not dressed in satin and fleece, but instead, can usually be found wearing a cotton shirt and jeans, both representative of his district and his branding of agelessness, doomed to forever present as less mature than he truly is.

The Peacekeepers take a place near the doors. It should feel invasive, how they don’t leave, but all three of them know how the Capital fears its citizens more than they’d like to admit.

“ So, uh,” Tommy looks somewhat uncomfortable, and he knows it’s not only because of the Peacekeeper’s presence, “ how’s it been.”

“ How’d you think.”

(Josh always had been the bitter one. Tommy’s games hadn’t been nearly as gruesome as some of the others, (when any of the ensuing games began, the Districts thought of Technoblade, and the bloodshed of the 56th Hunger Games. Fortunately, nothing on that level happened after the king took his place alongside his captors) but he could tell, from the way his jaw tightened as he bit his tongue and averted his gaze)

“ Sorry, ‘was just trying to be polite,” Tommy shifts in his seat. He’s trying to lighten the mood, although the people that sit in front of him, who have not been children for a long time, wear smoke as a funeral shroud, “ geez.”

“ I’m sure you were.”

“ What’s that supposed to mean?”

The space between the bridge of Josh’s nose increases, and he scoffs, “ That you aren’t one of us anymore.”

That one is too far, even though Deo can’t say, with confidence, that the kid who sits in front of him is the same one he spend weeks prior to his first birthday as the in-between of the child he will be forever, and the young adult all of his friends seem to be, bargaining for the sweet bread of District 9, “ Don’t put words into my mouth,” He says, quietly, and it’s enough to make Josh sit back in the most comfortable chair they’ve ever experienced in their lives.

“ No, Deo,” Hearing Tommy just say his name, still laced with adoration, although he’s sadder now, from the slight purplish lines under his eyes, to the way he doesn’t tap incomplete melodies into the surfaces his hand rests on “ he’s right,” He’s so quiet, and Deo hates that. He wishes Tommy’s passion wasn’t capitalized upon, because now he’s so quiet, and it’s so unnerving “ I just wanted to see you two one last time.”

“ Tom-“

(Tommy doesn’t stop. He is as ceaseless as the cycle of the moon and sun, relentless, ageless, yearning for anything but himself. He never stops searching, even when it’s given to him.)

* * *

It genuinely hurts when Tommy begins to build a family, albeit of similarly broken children.

There’s Wilbur, who’s born of the riptide, although his persona is that of the ocean at rest, gentle, rippling with every person he comes in contact with. He’s nice enough, and even though he isn’t very good at the game he mains, he becomes Tommy’s brother.

Minx is the only one that surprises him. Upon further inspection, though, he can understand why Tommy would take a liking to her. She’s like him, her branding be that of crudeness, using shock as humor. She makes the least appearances, but when she does, they are memorable whether that be teasing Tommy during Love or Host with the rest of Floor 6, or genuinely kicking his door in on stream, an incident that is still speculated upon being a skit or not. 

Somehow, Tommy manages to coerce not only Technoblade, but Philza, father of the sixth floor and another one of the Capitol’s most beloved victors. Tommy’s dysfunctional family is nicknamed the “Sleepy Boys” at some point, a collective effort of the four’s fanbases uniting for once. It’s strange, yet Tommy goes to Wilbur for advice regularly (it’s given, despite usually being a joke, or a bit) and he teases Techno, and Philza is forever the mediator, although he doesn’t seem to mind, given the cackles he lets out during his adoptive son’s antics.

When Tommy introduces Tubbo, to the mix, that’s when Deo begins to properly move on.

He supposes he wanted something akin to what the Capital has monetized- for Tommy to not grow up. He failed the one goal he had for himself: to keep Tommy safe, and now he pays the price, staying at the library long after his homework is done only to log into twitch and watch his VODS. 

He looks happy when he’s with Tubbo, and that’s how Deo moves on. The Capitol is not kind, even to its victors. Tommy’s discomfort with his brand is in his voice, sometimes, when one of his friends won’t drop the bit after it’s long dead. When Tubbo’s around, his posture is terrible but he never stops smiling.

And that’s enough. Tommy is happy, sometimes, and that’s all Deo could've asked for.


End file.
